i have no one to share this space with but i'm here
Not everyone in my life will like lala which is understandable
If love alone was enough, it could bring her to life.
How can I tell you that love is what makes her real? that after all these years she is ME !and she is the part of me I am unable to hate. Even when I am falling out of reality I don’t want to leave her behind.
泥娃娃 泥娃娃 一个泥娃娃
我做她妈妈 我做她爸爸 永远爱着她。
what I remember of my father’s mother:
her gentle voice and the harsh shaanxi dialect that accompanied it, which all of her children shared; how she called my father 豪豪 and the wò！and especially the séi mà！ that we'd imitate when answering the phone
how she favored me because she’d always wanted daughters and i’d sleep on the small hard mattress in her room. how I’d wake up in the dark of midnight to her slight figure standing over me. how she’d watch my sleeping form silently, sometimes fanning me with a 扇子，before adjusting my blanket and shuffling away.
that she liked to eat 馍 with 臭豆腐 and I could smell it from across the flat, even long after the meal had ended and the little jar had been screwed shut.
that her left arm was paralyzed and we always sat on her right. How I learned from my uncle (her eldest son) to separate the toilet paper two squares at a time and stack it for her to use. That, months later, the tissues I’d made remained untouched on the countertop, too precious to be used.
most days between 11 pm and 2 am is when I'll lie down and wait to fall asleep. 1 am and I'm wondering how it feels to wash your lover's back, gentle hands and bumps and moles and smooth skin and acne. Just to touch someone and worship.
Sometimes if I'm lucky I dream about it. I write these dreams down and try as hard as I can to remember things I’ve never felt-somehow they feel so real. I'm lying with someone and tracing the crease of their hip as they sing softly in my ear and I say, this is my favorite part of you. I hug a person and it feels like being embraced in a cocoon, a womb. A friend and I are leaving a high school classroom and we touch the tips of our fingers together to say goodbye. Someone I’ve known since childhood steadies my arm and pierces it with a syringe when I can't do it myself and I look at them with my chest burning. I'm kissing someone in a parked car at night, and it's snowing outside but we keep each other warm. The characters who appear are usually unrecognizable strangers. but I know I love them by the way it feels to touch them. I think about the person who taught me how to love and how when things were too difficult for words she’d rest her head on my shoulder and maybe I adopted her way of loving as my own. Sooner or later Ill fall asleep or wake up. Good night.
It was our last evening in San Diego and we were driving back to the room. sam in the drivers seat, matt’s music floating from the speakers, me in the back. We were all pretty tired and I remember thinking that time passes so irreversibly and isn’t that sad. With the windows rolled down I let the wind whip across my skin and felt the fullness in my heart emptying, little by little. I will never be here with you like this again. already I'm forgetting
1. Impaired judgement 2. unwilling acceptance 3. burning bridges 4. sleep it off 5. cicada's death 6. departure from reality 7. a stranger.
Last night I finished watching The Good Place. The ending was so beautiful, I don't think there's anything I would change...I cried so much watching those left behind, but i knew I’d felt that feeling of complete peace they described and it was comforting that that was the final place. After all, once you live that long, you're not afraid of running out of time and you just want to be at rest. The wave returns to the ocean, but the water remains, always. I would too.
how can i say I love you in a way you understand?
At midnight my cramps returned so I went to the kitchen to drink warm lemon water. As I sat there I thought: I’ve been reborn, transformed, after what happened. It doesn’t feel good. I feel a stranger to the things I used to care about. I feel very naked in my skin.
I used to say I wanted to be happy but really I was looking to deserve happiness. I don’t feel that way now, not since. I just want to be happy. be myself. be happy.
alone in an open
room in a place full of
other people. where
i think of being another
last night, i watched myself
as i walked towards
death's welcoming arms.
i felt the taste of peace
almost, almost to the brim
i woke up
i was only dreaming. and i did
path, but i never
to be stopped while walking
i can't go on anymore.
i tried for a long time. i really can't.
in the end, i was sorry i lived.
It hurts in different parts for different reasons. I do not touch any of them. I am lying down. I could be nicer if I was gone. I try but I remain and it only makes me crueler.
It's been exactly two months. I'm no longer 19. hi
Even though I felt nauseous and barely conscious all day I think it was good in most other respects. sam and I were supposed to meet with our phd student but he was an hour late +_+ but it was a blessing because i hadn't video called anyone in so long and we spent that hour chatting. Later in the evening I video called some other friends. Someone came to me to confide their thoughts and we had meaningful conversation. And right now I'm talking to another friend about how much we mean to each other. I have indigestion. But it was a good day and I'm grateful.
wide expanses of water and the deep blue sea
creepy uncanny lurking jumping
deeply personal drawings being invisible
disappointment from people realizing i am bad and mean and lazy
not being enough
time irreversibly passes and i'm going to be at a funeral aching to travel back but i cannot
losing control over my body
Every part of me aches except the physical parts, which goes without saying because the body isn't part of me. I really miss the fountain pen i lost. I need to go back to journaling. Yeah. That's all for now I guess.
It feels unlucky to say this but I think I am finally feeling connected to my art again. I would like to preserve this fragile sensation. i reactivated instagram after months, during which I could’nt look at art and barely drew. I want this fragile sensation to last. I want to make things that have meaning to me. I want to be sincere about what I am.
Another cake today: japanese cheesecake. It turned out okay but I wish it was fluffier. Mom had no complaints as she ate it all. We cleaned the yard and Kevin and I played catch with a water bottle as the sun set. After dinner I watched him drink two cups of milk at once, laughing all the while.
Today my parents were out when I woke up so I laid in the dark in bed and wept. When they came back I fried 煎饺 and drank dad’s leftover coffee. baked another matcha chiffon cake but it wasn’t as nice as last time because I had some and felt guilty about it. video called 外婆 and she called me pretty and I took a nap until midnight. I went back to bed at 3 am and read On Death and Dying before falling asleep.
things I want part 2:
to wake up in the before-morning to a cool dark breeze
to read lots and lots of stories
love. Love LOVE love!!!!! love .....
big ass cookies with lots of butter or whatever in them
a switch so i can play animal crossing
I slept most of the day. Spent a while playing piano (chopin op 69 no 1). I should have gotten some work done but I've been so strained and sleepless these days that i know i needed the rest.
I am 19 and soon I will be 20, meaning i have had my soft blue bear for nearly 20 years. I once thought I would grow bigger and bigger, but instead things are becoming smaller as they become more distant. The moment I was born the universe flinched away and continued to expand, and I will continue to watch things hurtle away from me as I wait to to leave my body.
i want to write poems again. I am very not good at writing & that's okay because it's for me. I was okay at drawing but now i can't do it. because my drawings have none of me in them. I can write shitty poetry and maybe it will carry some of me and then i'll feel a bit better.
I don't think I should be here but the same is true anywhere. a tree that falls unheard is silent.
hello i would like:
bread and butter
to breathe easy
you to love me
something that fills me up inside
a new fountain pen
Writing is wanting and I want things I don’t know. I cant write.